Three Taps, Three Words
by QueenCarol
Summary: Carol never thought this day would happen so the image she catches out of the corner of her eye tramples over her completely. She feels her heart truly and completely shatter in a matter of seconds. The pain is so strong and blinding that it takes her by surprise, punches the air out of her lungs and leaves her weak. She has to escape.


Carol sees them from the corner of her eye and feels her heart truly and completely shatter in a matter of seconds. The pain is so strong and blinding that it takes her by surprise, punches the air out of her lungs and leaves her weak. Ezekiel -the King she learned to understand, the man she truly fell in love with, the husband she left behind in her grief- caresses the woman's cheek as if it's made of the softest material he's ever encountered. He looks at her as if his days rise and fall in her eyes. He leans to press a kiss to the woman's forehead and seems to take a deep breath to inhale her scent.

Unable to stomach what her eyes and mind are telling her to be true, Carol turns and moves away as fast as her legs can carry her. A new breath is caught in her chest, painfully making her lungs expand against her rib cage, begging to be released as soon as she finds a safe place to break down in.

She moves as fast as she can, her legs burning as she tries to make an escape without actually running. She doesn't want to catch anyone's attention. She wants to escape. She wants to disappear. She wants to disintegrate into nothingness that can easily be dispersed by the soft breeze. She's ready to explode into tiny bits of ashes that carry her pain, that burn as they fall, but she holds it all together until she's back at Michonne's house.

When she finally reaches the house she's sheltered in the past few weeks, Carol closes the door behind her then leans against it to try and catch her breath, fighting against the burning in her lungs. There is a ringing in her ear that she can't shake which gets louder with every second that ticks by and robs her from the ability to focus. She blinks a couple of times before closing her eyes completely and clenching her teeth. The image of Ezekiel leaning in to press his lips to the woman's forehead invades her mind's eyes which quickly make her eyes slam open. Pushing away from the dark wood, she lets out a grunt of disdain aimed at herself before she quickly moves up the stairs. Her attempt is short lived for she doesn't even get halfway to her room before she has to sit down or risk tumbling down, her whole body shaking, her legs unable to carry her to her shelter.

What did she expect? That Ezekiel was going to be waiting for a wife that had abandoned him at his worst hour? That he would remain alone until she had avenged their son and could find her way back to him and back to his love? That he would be faithful to the love they held when she'd practically destroyed their marriage and any hope for their future?

Her trembling hands quickly cover her face in an attempt to stifle the cry of pain that reverberates from deep within her. Her sobs escape through the tiny cracks between her fingers even as she digs her fingernails into the softness of her cheeks, cheeks he had once upon a time caressed the same way he was caressing that woman's skin. Her tears slide down her cheeks, desperate and hot, their saltines stinging as they make contact with the tiny crescent wounds she's left behind. She rocks forward, pressing her chest against her knees in an attempt to curl herself into a tiny ball of grief.

She hates herself like she's almost never hated anyone else. Hates herself almost as much as she hates Alpha. This is all her fault and she knows it. She's broken, she's anger, she's pain and she's at fault.

She's lost everything; her son at Alpha's hand and her husband by her own stupid decision.

It's more than she can take.

Unable to stop the rise of emotion, Carol balls her hands into fists and starts hitting her legs as hard as she can to let out her frustration. Physical pain is something she can deal with, Ed made sure of it. Physical pain is better than the searing emotional burn her soul is going through. Like a wounded animal that needs to remain angry to survive a fight, she focuses on the sting in her legs. She doesn't care if she leaves bruises behind, it's either that or have a panic attack the likes of which she hasn't had in a very long time. She won't be able to control it if she does, she never has been able to, so she does what she can to prevent it. Tears, cries and pain is all she will focus on.

Suddenly remembering what she has in the lower left pocket of her jean jacket, Carol stops the hitting abruptly and digs angrily into it until her fingers close around the delicate metallic circle. She pulls her hand out in a fist and raises it to press it to her forehead as her eyes close tightly and her breath comes in short gasps. She's been carrying her ring around as a sort of touchstone, a way to come back from the depths of despair when her grief overpowers her. The cold metal touch brings down the fire within her, immediately centering her and reminding her that no matter what happens there is still someone who loves her and whom she loves. That there is someone, something, to return to. Ezekiel hadn't wanted the ring back and she had assumed it meant that he would always be waiting for her, that he really understood what she needed to do and didn't want to be rid of her despite knowing she'd burn everything in her path to become the monster she's always thought she was.

At least that's what she'd until she saw them.

Letting her hand fall on her lap, Carol licks her dry lips and opens her eyes. Her chin immediately starts wobbling as her vision blurs. She's worn this ring for years and knows every little detail of it enough to not need to see it. She knows the exact golden color, the inlay that holds the stone, the garnet that has always reminded her of Ezekiel's love. Now she's afraid it'll only stand for the blood she's going to pour when she takes Alpha's life, the promise she was unable to fulfill to keep Henry safe and her inability to be the wife Ezekiel deserves.

Ezekiel deserves the best. He deserves a woman who can love him unabashedly and who won't hide her love behind walls for fear of having it taken all away, a queen who can stand besides him without fearing she will run, a lover who will bare his children and know how to protect them. She isn't it.

Another sob breaks through her, her whole body shaking uncontrollably as she attempts to caress the golden circle.

She wanted to be that woman, she wanted it so bad, had tried to be for eight wonderful years, but her luck had finally caught up to her and everything had turned to dust because she had been unable to protect it.

She doesn't blame him, doesn't hate him. Ezekiel deserves happiness, he deserves a second chance at being a husband and a father and if that woman gives it to him then who is she to hold it against him? She is no one. She is simply the lucky gal who had been able to enjoy his love and companionship for almost eight years before she messed everything up. She should have told him how much she loved him more often, she should have made him see he was the only man for her, she should have let him call her 'his Queen' instead of fighting against the title that meant so much more than nobility to him.

She smooths her finger over the metal circle as her tears continue to fall. She'll have to part from the ring, return it somehow so that he can give it to it's rightful owner or bury it if he doesn't want it.

A trembling hand rises to brush away the wetness on her cheeks. She has to compose herself, has to return to being the image of the woman made of stone that she so painstakingly carved for herself, even if it's cracked on more than one place. She has to continue her path of vengeance until Alpha meets her end, has to let Ezekiel go, let Henry rest in peace and let the fairytale truly die. She's been naive to wish for their story to continue when she's been the one to fully destroy it.

Alpha has to die and then she'll simply take a horse and go on her way, completely disappear and never look back.

The sound of a knock on wood and the door opening give her little time to compose herself. She angrily brushes off her tears with the back of the fisted hand in which she conceals her ring. Whomever is at the door doesn't need to deal with her meltdown. She'll put it aside, shove it to the bottom of an imaginary drawer and slam it shut until she's alone again. They won't know anything is wrong with her.

Except that when she finally looks up all she is able to do is stare at Ezekiel. She knows her mouth is hanging open, knows her eyes are rimmed with red, knows her body is betraying her by continuing to shake. She stares at him with wide eyes and her heart on her throat. She can't do this, not now, not when the knowledge of all that she's lost is still too raw.

"Ezekiel." Her voice betrays her by letting his name out in a rush of air.

"Carol! You will not believe the news I have to share!" He exclaims. He's oblivious to her pain, oblivious to the way her world has just crashed around her for a second time in less than a year.

The smile on his lips and the way his eyes shine with wonder seem to mock her. Once upon a time they had been the light of her life, her guide through moments of shadows, now they serve to remind her of everything she's lost. Unable to stomach it she turns away and attempts to brush away the fresh batch of tears without him realizing she's crying. She's as successful at hiding her pain from him now as she was back then.

His gentle touch on her elbow makes her jerk and pull away. She takes a step up the stairs to put some distance between them but doesn't turn to look at him. She can't look at him, not if she wants to prevent herself from completely breaking down. If she turns to look at him all she will see is the tenderness of his touch and the gaze he held for the woman and she's not sure she'd be able to survive it.

"Carol?" His deep yet soft voice says her name in a way that begs her to turn to look at him, to share with him what ails her, to let him shoulder whatever it is that's causing her pain. She can't, not anymore, she doesn't feel she has the right. "What is the matter?"

"I'm fine," she whispers as she tries to raise the walls she's built for this very reason, the walls she's erected to stop herself from turning and burying her face in his chest to beg him to forgive her, to love her once more like he said he'd never stop doing.

He remains silent for a second or two before attempting to reach her once more. "We may have found different paths in our grief but that doesn't erase the years of knowing you. I know there is something wrong, Carol. Please know you can still confide in me."

"I'm fine." She repeats a little bit stronger, perhaps too strong.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees him deflate, his shoulders slump. He holds himself as a broken man would, a man whose not sure what to do with himself. It's such a contrast to the image she saw earlier, to the smile he just had on his lips. He lets out a sigh slowly, so slowly that it's as if he's expelling all the air in his lungs and it worries her that he'll become light-headed. She turns just enough to turn to look at him in time to see the sadness and the defeat in his expression.

Why does he seem sad that she doesn't want to share with him? Did she... did she misunderstand what she had seen?

She shakes her head to clean her thoughts. She can't think that way. She won't allow herself to think that way. Going down that path would only give her a flare of hope, hope that is nonexistent and that would only end in heartbreak.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Carol leans against the wall. They must be a sight; both of them standing halfway up the stairs, with Ezekiel near the banister and her practically hugging the wall. The space between them might be physically small but it feels like the Grand Canon. It's awkward and silent and leaves a hole in the pit of her stomach.

Unable to stand it any longer, Carol brushes away the last of her tears from her puffy eyes and turns fully to him. "What's the news?"

"Hmmm?" He asks confused.

"The news," she repeats. "You were gonna tell me something when you came in."

He shakes his head though she's not sure if it's to clear his thoughts and focus on his news or if it's because he doesn't want to share it with her any longer. "Doesn't matter. I shouldn't have burst into your sanctuary the way I did, forgive me."

"You knocked on the door. I'd hardly call that bursting in."

He shakes his head again then moves down a couple of steps giving his back to her. Something breaks within her as she watches him move away. It unravels as a hot pain licks at her soul and demands that she stop him. Fear grips her, fear of never talking to him again, fear of losing the last chance she has to give him some type of closure. Even if it will never help heal the wound in her soul the least she can do is give him a fresh start with whomever he wishes to spend the rest of his life with.

"Ezekiel," she says to stop his retreat. "I... saw you outside. I just... I'm happy for you. You are a good man, you deserve to be happy."

Ezekiel turns to look at her with confusion painted in his eyes. His forehead wrinkles as he tightens it into an expression of someone who doesn't quite follow the conversation. Doubt once again blossoms within her.

"I... I should give you this." She extends her fisted hand and turns it so that her palm faces upward as she uncurls her fingers. Her ring lays in the middle of her trembling hand, an offering for him to take away the last physical link she had to him.

Ezekiel's eyes follow her movement until they land on the gold ring. He stares at it for what feels like an eternity but doesn't reach for it which only makes Carol tremble further. She's barely holding on to her emotions and she's afraid that if he doesn't reach for it, if he leaves the ring behind with her, her paper thin walls will crumble and she'll lay all her pain at his feet. He doesn't deserve to deal with any of it any longer, he deserves to be free of her once and for all.

"Take it. For her." She insists while pushing her hand towards him.

"For her?" Ezekiel asks. He appears to be even more confused than before.

Carol is sure that her hold on her emotions will slip at any moment and she'll make a fool of herself. She takes a couple of steps down to close the distance between them before reaching for his warm hand -the hands that always made her feel cherished, loved and protected- and pressing the ring to his palm.

"You deserve to be happy, Ezekiel. I'm glad you've found someone you can love and I wish you, and her, all the happiness I couldn't give you." Perhaps she's being too dramatic, relying too much on her own thespian proclivity to survive one of the hardest moments of her life, but she knows she needs to push through this for his sake. "Take it. Give it to her. Go far away from here and start a new community, a new life. You deserve it."

Something seems to click inside of Ezekiel, his eyes going from the confused glaze they had developed to showing his understanding. His lips curl into a smile before a chuckle springs forth at the same time that he accepts her ring

"You are mistaken." He assures her. "This is your ring Carol. When I placed it upon your finger it was forever. I am not interested in finding it a new owner."

Carol shakes her head and looks away. "Ezekiel, you ca-"

He doesn't let her finish. Instead he offers the ring back to her by holding it between his thumb and forefinger. "I already have... had a wife," he quickly corrects himself. "And I love her, I will always love her. There will never be another woman for me. You were it for me and even if your love for me has run it's course I am not interested in replacing what we had."

"Ezekiel," she warns. "I saw you outside. I saw you holding her and kissing her forehead. You don't have to deny it. You deserve to be happy and if she makes you happy then-"

"She's my god-daughter."

Whatever she had been thinking of saying dies on her lips. She stares at him, blinking silently as she tries to understand what he just told her. Her heart is still beating hard, possibly harder than before, and she's having a hard time doing anything other than breathing. "What?" She finally asks in a confused whisper.

"The woman you saw me embracing is not a lover but my god-daughter." He restates with a softer and calmer voice. The tenderness in his voice soothes her enough for her to calm her mind. "She's somehow survived all of this and arrived this morning at Alexandria's gates along with a troupe of survivors."

"Your god-daughter?" Carol asks.

Ezekiel gives her a nod and a smile, one of his bright everything-happens-for-reason smiles that have always filled her with warm hope even when she fought hard to prove him wrong. "Do you recall when I recounted the tale of my high school best friend? How we were both the awkward thespian kids who didn't quite fit with the rest of our generation? How we formed a sibling bond until she found her path besides a man that would never be good enough for her and who took her away from all she knew?"

She knows he is waiting for her nod so she quickly gives it to him. She does remember him telling her about the girl he'd spent most of his time in high school defending from bullies that would mess with both of them. She remembers how his face had brighten when telling her all about the street theater they used to perform and how it had grown sad when he mentioned the man that would eventually take his 'sister' away. She remembers Ezekiel saying that even though her husband had thought she'd lost all contact with her previous life, his friend had always found a way to reach out to him. It was through those letters, written in whatever paper she could find, that she'd told him about the little girl she'd given birth to and whom he'd eventually meet and spoil rotten once his best friend had decided enough was enough and had left her husband. How he'd helped take care of her while her mother worked doble shifts in order to support her until the day she had simply disappeared and the twelve year old's father had come to pick her up only to take her away forever.

"That young woman you saw me embracing is little Marianne."

"How... how do you know it's her?" Carol stutters as she searches his eyes for any trace of deceit even though she knows she will find none. Even though she knows she has no right to search for it.

"She recognized me. She had a olden picture of her mother and I that she carried around. She saw me, called me Uncle Zeke, and the moment I looked into her eyes I knew."

Two emotions instantly course through Carol. The first is happiness; for Ezekiel, for Marianne and for the memory of Zeke's best friend. To find someone familiar from the old world is a blessing, particularly someone whom he had a close bond with. Of all the people that deserves to find that happiness she knows Ezekiel deserves it the most. It makes her happy to see him beaming, to see his excitement and the love he holds for that young woman. Ever since Henry, he's had very little to be happy about, something Carol is keenly aware she hasn't helped with at all. The second emotion is shame. It slams hard against her, leaving behind an embarrassingly red face and ears. She knows she was jealous of what she'd seen, jealous enough to have a physical reaction. The fact that Ezekiel knows it as well doesn't help at all especially when Carol knows she doesn't have a right to be.

"I'm sorry." She whispers before pressing herself to the wall and sliding down until she sits on the step she had just been standing on. She buries her face in her hands, ashamed, embarrassed and wanting to escape his tender gaze.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Carol." He assures her as he moves to sit besides her. It's a tight fit but he makes it work. "Hey, look at me."

She shakes her head and covers her face further.

"Carol-"

"I know I have no right," she interrupts him. "You are free to be with whomever you want to be, to form the life you want to have with anyone you meet. I... I made sure of it. I was the one who left you, not the other way around. I have no right to be... feeling this way. I'm sorry."

"You have every right." Ezekiel assures her. His words only serve to help her raise her head, her teary eyes searching his. "I told you I'd love you forever. It's only natural the sight would have surprised you."

Carol shakes her head, her delicate fingers rising to brush away her tears before she dries her fingers by smoothing them over her jeans. "I don't, Ezekiel. I can't hold you to that promise either."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not fair!" She explains loudly, suddenly exploding against all she's been feeling. "It's not fair for you not to be happy! It's not fair for me to have abandoned you! It's not fair that our son got killed because I couldn't keep him safe! It's not fair that you keep loving what I'm becoming! It's just not fair!"

Carol tries to take a deep breath but fails. Instead she ends up pulling in short breaths through the invisible fist that has lodged itself in her throat until she hyperventilates. She feels perspiration break all over her skin and the ringing in her ears return. She's dizzy and lightheaded and the whole world is spinning far faster than she can keep up with.

"Carol... Carol... take a deep breath for me sweetheart." She hears Ezekiel try and coax her but his voice sounds far away, too far away. She mentally tries to claw her way back to Ezekiel, to follow his voice, but it seems like a lost battle. The darkness threatens to consume her and it almost does until she feels his touch. His hand presses to her back, warm and strong as it has always been, and gently pushes so that she leans forward until her chest is pressed to the v of her legs and her head is between her thighs. "Breathe slowly... in through your nose, out through your mouth."

She doesn't fight his instructions, mimicking his breathing as best as she can. It clears her head a little, enough to hear him closer and to push away the ringing in her ears. As the sensation slowly returns to her body, a new feeling takes over her. Three gentle taps. Three presses of three of his fingers against her back. Three taps that meant three words she seldomly had used and which she misses saying.

I love you.

The action had started during their courtship -because Ezekiel had courted her as only a gentleman could- and had continued well into their marriage. She'd admitted to him that she felt vulnerable in their relationship, like everything was too good to be true and she'd wake up suddenly to find out everything she'd lived at Kingdom had been a dream and that that was the reason she didn't voice her feelings so often. Her lack of saying those three words hadn't been because she didn't feel love for him but because she was sure that if she said it too often she'd wake up and he'd be gone. He had understood, of course he had, and had assured her that he knew of her love for him. The conversation had continued on, advancing organically between the two lovers until well into the night. They'd gone to sleep that night spooned together as they often did. She's completely forgotten about it in the weeks that followed until one day, while watching their son train, Ezekiel had simply tapped against the arm that wasn't pressed to his body. She'd hummed softly for she liked the gentle stimulation, but had noticed he continued to tap her randomly. He did it during Henry's training, when they parted later that day, right after dinner was shared as a family, then once more when they laid in bed. She'd asked what he was doing and Ezekiel had explained that he was telling her that he loved her. Three taps. Three words. I love you.

The love of her life had understood her worry and had found a way for her to express what she wanted to say without actually having to say it.

From then on she had done it every time she could. She'd tap the palm of his hand right before leaving his side, she'd tap his arm when he was pulling her close, she's tap his back when she saw him tense up whenever something went wrong at Kingdom. It was always the same; three taps for three words. I love you.

Feeling it now not only soothed her but served to remind her of everything she'd abandoned, everything she kept pulling herself away from. Everything she secretly wanted back.

"I don't know how to fix this," she admits in a whimper after her breathing has somewhat returned to normal and she leans back to a normal sitting position. "I've broken everything and I don't know how to fix it."

She feels three taps again. She knows Ezekiel will not speak, will not interrupt her, but instead will listen because that's the kind of wonderful man he is.

"I don't know if I even have a right to fix it. I've... I've been so consumed by needing revenge that it's all I can think of. She took our boy, she killed him, but I was the one that destroyed it all." Carol gives a shake of her head before raising both hands to brush away her tears. She sighs as she wraps her arms around her waist, holding herself as tightly as she can. "I just want things to be the way they were. I want to wake up with you by my side, I want to know that you love me and for you to know that I love you, I want to go to Henry's room to wake him up over and over until he finally drags himself out of bed for breakfast, I want to see him practice with his staff, I want to see you at your throne, I want to see our people happy and to go to bed at the end of the day knowing that you'll hold me, make love to me, and then repeat it all over again."

Three more taps are felt. I love you.

"I don't want to keep doing this. I want Alpha dead, I want her to suffer, but I don't want to be away from you anymore. I don't want to push you away anymore." She licks her lips once more before making eye contact with him through a fresh batch of tears. "I don't know how to fix us, I don't know if I can, or if you'd want... me... but seeing you and thinking that she... was something more, Ezekiel it crushed me. I don't know what to do. What... what do I do?"

"Do you really want to fix this?" He asks in a soft voice. She had never seen him as vulnerable as he is at the moment. His eyes seem tired, his smile is gone, his shoulders are slumped. He seems as tired as she feels.

"Yes." She replies with a trembling voice, a voice that trembles not because of uncertainty but out of fear that he will say it's too late.

"I wish there was a way to magically give you everything you desire, my love." He whispers to her as he raises his arm and curls it around her body. He brings her close to him, letting her rest against his body. They are both weary, both exhausted, and both hurting. "I can't tell you that with one action everything will be better, everything will be fixed because I do not believe it to be so, but I can assure you that I am willing to do my part so that we move in the right direction."

She'll take it. They've always worked that way; meeting in the middle, allowing their differences to complement each other, learning from the way the other views the world. That's what had made their marriage strong and unique. That and their love.

Once upon a time Ezekiel had courted her, had won her love which if she had been honest with herself she had been ready to give to him. He'd accommodate to her as best as he could. Now it was her turn to show him the love she had for him because now she knew exactly what it felt to lose him. It wasn't a fear anymore, it couldn't be. She couldn't lose him again, not ever again.

Slowly she releases her hold around her waist and completely relaxes against him. Her hand smooths over his belly until she's hugging his waist. Tenderly, afraid, she taps his side three times. She doesn't leave it there though, she never will, not again. "I love you."

She feels him chuckle softly before gently squeezing her against him. "And I you, my love." He assures her. Without moving away he raises his free hand and offers her the ring back. "This is yours. It will always be yours. No one else's. I can hold on to it for you, if you wish me too, but I think it is far more secure in your possession."

She doesn't hesitate and reaches for the ring. She still doesn't feel like she deserves to have it, even if he says that she does, but she can't fathom being away from it. It's been on her for almost eight years and she wants it to remain there for many more. "I don't deserve it-"

"You do."

She pauses but ends up relenting with a nod before leaning further against him. "I have to work on many things, Zeke."

"I know." Ezekiel presses a kiss to her forehead as she twirls the ring between her fingers. She knows this ring inside out and yet it seems brand new. It seems like a new beginning. "Carry it then. Keep it safe until you are ready. Our love goes far beyond a ring-"

"Help me put it on?" She asks abruptly, interrupting a phrase she knows he is saying to accommodate her fears even if what he says is true.

His hands tremble as he reaches one-handed for the ring. Slowly he slides it on her finger, letting it rest on the spot where it had rest on for so long. She doesn't let his hand retreat before she grabs his fingers and holds on to him. He is her lifeline, has always been, will always be.

They fall silent, simply holding each other, breathing each other in. Just being in his arms is enough to sooth the pain she'd felt before, the pain and guilt she'd let fester for far too long. She's not sure how long it will last but she'll take his embrace for as long as he wishes to give it to her.

"Your god-daughter... is she going to stay around?" She finally breaks the silence though she makes no move to separate herself from him.

"I hope she will." Ezekiel replies. It is he who ends up pulling away but only enough so that he can look into her eyes "Would you like to meet her, Carol?"

She bites her lip. She probably should stay away from her, should not subject the young woman to the bad luck she carries, but she knows this is important for Ezekiel and she wants to meet her. For him, for her. "Yeah."

Ezekiel grins at her before pulling away and getting up from the stairs once he makes sure she won't tumble down. He turns to look at her and offers her his hand. "She's going to love you."

"We'll see."

She knows they aren't fixed, she knows there are so many things they need to work on and many more that she needs to address within herself, but this feels right. It finally feels right. It finally feels like maybe, just maybe, they will survive the nightmare they've been dragged into.

And as they cross the threshold of Michonne's home, three little taps on the back of her hand assure her they'll make it through. That's all she needs to know.

I love you.

The end.


End file.
